Blue Eyes
by anthrop
Summary: Seto gives himself to the Blue Eyes White Dragons, at the expense of his human life and Mokuba. Angsty as all hell. Slight SetoMokuba. Complete.
1. Continuing Cycle

A.N.: 'Sup. –waves- I know I need to post the next chapter for FSS but I finished this and now that I have a bit of time on a computer I thought I'd try posting it.

Anti: . . . . . ? This fic of yours is . . . most troubling.

Anthrop: He's right –mutters- for once. You need help.

Veo: -nods, smiling-

A.N.: -sighs- Just read it and tell me what you think. I say I did a pretty good job on this thing.

------------------------

The door creaked open, letting in a yellow light. A tall, dreadfully thin man entered, shutting the door after. Immediate darkness surrounded him, curling about like slimy things from deep beneath the earth, and he did not dare look up beyond the monstrous white claws before him.

"You stayed away again. Purposely." A pair of empty bluish eyes narrowed angrily.

"I didn't mean to . . . directly," the man said, still refusing to look up.

"You attempted to break free."

"No. I've been busy with my company." The man's voice had a small ring of fear in it. The creature chuckled darkly and shifted its weight, scales grinding against the floor.

"That's no excuse." It chuckled again. "When will you finally see? Your cards have no meaning. Your dragon cards are nothing compared to the real thing. You delude yourself with all your holograms and technology. We are real, nothing else is."

"You . . . are all that is," the man whispered, voice now accompanied by a slightly hypnotic tone. If it could, the creature would have smiled cruelly. Instead, it opened its mouth in a malignant grin, fangs gleaming.

"I'm afraid you will have to be shown your place again. You grow independent, and that is not good. You serve but one purpose, and that is to keep us alive."

"And if I don't?" the man said suddenly, angrily. He lifted his head in and defiance flared in his distant frozen eyes. The creature's laughter was louder this time, and echoed throughout the enormous house. In the opposite wing, a small boy with long black hair turned restlessly in his bed, sleep interrupted by disturbing dreams.

"It's amusing, these little bouts of self-awareness you have. But tell me- just how do you expect to destroy us if you cannot escape? Even _you_ must understand that we have but one weakness. That weakness is your _pitiful_ soul, and that, as you well know, as been taken care of."

The man sighed heavily, and didn't reply.

"Very good, slave. Now you know what to do." The man flinched and clutched at his black turtleneck.

"Can't it wait just a little bit longer?" he asked pleadingly, looking up into those cruel blue eyes. "I'm still healing from your last . . . feed."

For the first time the creature looked away and off to the shadowed corner. Two low growls emitted from the impenetrable darkness,, and the man knew the answer.

"No. Now come closer and let me feed." The man sighed again, and the sound was enough to bring tears to the creature's eyes- if it could cry. The small sound seeped across the mansion, and deep down into the black-haired boy's dreams. The boy moaned sadly and rolled over.

The man slowly pulled off his turtleneck, tossing it aside. And in the pale light coming from the blue-white scales of the creature, one could see but one thing: scars. Countless claw marks ran all across the man's body, going up to the bask of he jaw, down to his wrists, disappearing underneath his waistline and reappearing on his bare feet.

The creature tutted and waved a claw. "You're getting a bit used, slave. It's actually quite amazing, you having lived this long." The man said nothing, not looking at the creature. The hate gleaming from his eyes was nearly tangible. The creature chuckled blackly.

"How things have changed, wouldn't you agree? You remember the old times, don't you? When you first found us? How happy you were, to have _friends_ like no one else, yes?" It said mockingly.

The man's blue eyes narrowed in contempt. He remembered all right. He could remember finding three tiny white dragons huddled in the gutter when he was eight years old. He could remember taking care of them, making sure no one knew about them. He could remember talking to them in his little room for hours, how his biological father and little brother would look at him when he came out, how worried they were about him. How once he fell and scrapped his knees, and how eagerly the little dragons lapped up the blood. How he found out that they thrived on the blood of certain humans.

Things had started out so pleasantly. He had needed a friend and three dragons had appeared just like that. How they grew every time he did. How the scars grew. How with every new claw mark he grew more cold, more distant, more angry. He could remember the expression in his father's eyes shortly before he died. How his stepfather had looked at him. How his little brother continued to look at him, never saying a word, silently asking what was wrong.

How everyone looked at him, wondering how the Hell anyone could be so fucking bitter.

"Yes, we certainly have made your life a living nightmare, haven't we?" the creature said, mouth open in that horrible grin.

"Whatever. Just do it. Just do what you've been doing for longer that I can remember," the man snapped, eyes looking at the long since bloodstained floor again.

"Very well . . . friend." The creature's voice was soft and filled with regret. The claws swung down.

Seto Kaiba screamed.

Mokuba Kaiba jolted awake, ears ringing with a blood-curdling sound.

Coppery blood splattered against the ground.

Off in the corner, two pairs of blue eyes waited patiently for their turn to feed.

And so, the cycle continued.


	2. Stress Under Pressure

A.N.: I diiiiiiid it! –Squeals just oh-so-happily-

Anthrop: -cringe- I'm glad you're happy a.n., but must you be so blatant about it?

A.N.: -Sticks out tongue- Yesh. Anyway, hello my greedy little fans! –Waves- It's finally here, and I really hope it's up to your expectations. I'm trying to keep the chapters short, three pages, and I managed to do it for this chappy too.

Anthrop: which is amazing.

A.N.: For once we agree on something, Anthrop-kun. Well, I'm kinda iffy with this chapter, to say the least. It didn't really turn out like I expected, but I'm **assuming** it's all right. There's some Yuugi in here, but he definitely won't be playing a major role at all in this. This fic is all about Seto, Mokuba, and his lovely dragons that happen to be addicted to the taste of his blood. '

Originally, this fic was a one-shot with Seto and Mokuba being only one or two years older than they are in the show, but thanks to Lost Light, I've made them both six years older, just for fun. –Grin- If this isn't what anyone asked for, then I might just take it off and leave Blue Eyes as is.

But until then, 'ere ya go!

JAPANESE

_-sama_: Mr.; Mrs.; Ms. (formal)

_nan no_: what

_yen_: American version of "en", which is Japanese currency

_kon'nichiwa _: hello

_-san_: Mr.; Mrs.; Ms. (less formal)

_hai_: yes

_Kogyo_: Industry (name of band! )

_Arigato gozaimasu_: thank you (somewhat formal)

_-kun_: Mr.; Mrs.; (used in addressing younger people or colleagues in place of –san or –sama.)

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Chapter Two – Stress Under Pressure

Mokuba opened his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling dispassionately. He didn't even have to look over to see the hastily written note on his desk to know that Seto was gone again. He didn't have to reply to the worrisome knocking at his door to know that he was going to be late for school. He didn't have to answer the vibrating of his cell phone to know that friends were wondering where the Hell he was.

He didn't need to do a damn thing.

Well, he did, but he could blow it off until tomorrow, right?

Wrong. He needed to get up. There were finals all week and if he missed even a single day he was screwed, and he and the rest of Kogyo were lined up with various interviews for the next six days. Not to mention that with Seto missing, he was now temporary President of the Kaiba Corp. Empire.

This was gonna suck.

SLDKFOXLEINVLZIENLSIENFLKSJLJLKSDJLKFJOINFLJDOIJOWJOPASIOIJLASJFOIJOAKJL

"Kaiba-sama?" asked Seto's secretary, who was now temporarily working for Mokuba. She treated him exactly as she did Seto, for when under pressure, Mokuba often unsheathed the same biting tongue and fierce yet icy temper his elder brother was known for.

"Nan no?" he snapped viciously, hand automatically covering the mouthpiece he had been speaking into. It was the seventh day of him being in control of both his and Seto's life, and it had certainly made its toll on the poor seventeen-year-old.

"Er, there is a Yuugi Mouto waiting for you outside. He doesn't have an appointment but as he is Mouto-sama I just thought—"

"Tell him to keep waiting." Mokuba continued his conversation on the phone, waving impatiently at the secretary. "Yes, I'm only seventeen. Does that bother you? If I remember correctly, you began working with my brother when he was much younger than I am. I am just as capable as Seto-sama, and I have followed his workings with other companies such as your own since I was a child. I am a very busy person, Yamada-sama, and I have other things to do besides squabble over the subject of youth with you. Now please, are we going to continue this conversation in a way that will award both of us or must I hang up?"

Three minutes later Mokuba made the company quite a bit richer. Seto would have been proud.

Placing the phone back into its cradle he paged Seto's secretary and asked her to send in Yuugi. A moment later the door opened and in stepped a recently turned twenty-two Yuugi Mouto. "Kon'nichiwa, Mokuba-kun," he said with a respectful bow.

"Please dear God don't be formal with me, Yuugi, or I'm gonna hang myself." Mokuba slumped onto the expansive desk, folding his hands atop his black hair, which he had tried to tame multiple times that week. Needless to say, he had failed, and miserably at that.

Yuugi smiled, sitting comfortably into the seat across from the younger male. "Actually, I came here to talk about that with you."

"You want to talk about suicide resulting from formality?" Mokuba asked stupidly. He'd never been very good at hard labor, be it physical or mental, and controlling Kaiba Corp., dealing with school, friends, and somehow hanging onto his sort of girlfriend was already starting to become amazingly difficult. Times like these made Mokuba realize why his brother was such a heartless prick.

Yuugi laughed quietly with amusement, but his eyebrows knitted together uncertainly. "Nothing like that. We heard that you were temporary President of Kaiba Corp. again, and well, your brother hasn't shown up anywhere for a week, and we were just wondering if you've heard from him." The look on Mokuba's face said enough. "Nothing, huh?"

"Hai. I don't know where he goes, or why. Every several months he just disappears, and all he leaves me is a note with instructions and one stupid sentence telling me not to worry." Mokuba laughed shortly. "He'll probably show up in another three days, and even then he won't tell me what's going on. That's what he always does."

Yuugi was quiet for a minute. "Is there anything weird about him when he returns? Anything out of the ordinary—for him, I mean." He was trying to be a little funny, trying to lighten Mokuba's mood. The youth hardly noticed the humorous tone to Yuugi's voice.

Mokuba shrugged. "Seto doesn't have any emotions anymore. I haven't seen him smile in so long I can't even remember the last time. He's just getting—oh I don't know, colder?"

Just then the phone rang and Mokuba quickly answered. After a few seconds of listening Mokuba began talking very quickly in what sounded like French. Yuugi waited patiently, keeping his gaze politely pointed in another direction until Mokuba was finished.

"Damn it," Mokuba spat, returning to Japanese as he roughly tossed the phone back into its cradle for the umpteenth time that day.

"Something wrong?" Yuugi asked lightly. The youth moaned and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

"Business, Yuugi. Just business." Mokuba looked up at Yuugi, and the latter could see that the youth hadn't slept in perhaps days, and was holding back much-needed tears.

Yuugi immediately stood. "We're sorry to have bothered you, Mokuba-kun. We'll let ourselves out. "He bowed respectfully and headed for the door.

"Yuugi-san?" Mokuba said quietly. Yuugi paused as he heard the boy's voice crack.

"Hai?"

". . . Never mind."

Mokuba, if you ever need anything, we'll be there, okay?" Yuugi smiled brightly at Mokuba, a hopeful look in his violet eyes. Mokuba returned the gesture, albeit his being small and watery and very, very tired.

"Hai. Arigato gozaimasu, Yuugi-san."

--

Mokuba fell back into his large and cushy bed—**alone**. He hadn't been so excited about being alone in months. That ridiculous woman deserved it too. Too damn greedy and clingy for her own good. He sighed luxuriously and buried himself a little deeper into the pillows. He was a little guilty, he had to admit, but he just needed to not have to deal with anyone for two minutes, otherwise he'd go crazy. And it wasn't like she wouldn't forgive him—

What was that sound?

Mokuba immediately sat up, completely alert again. '_I've heard it before,'_ He thought vaguely, _'In a dream . . . . Or a nightmare.'_ He stepped out into the corridor, listening intently. There! It echoed through the mansion like the throb of bloodthirsty heart. Like something that needed death.

He followed after the echo, hardly conscious as he passed by a pair of servants who bowed humbly.

Quickly he found himself before the Door. He swallowed and took a few hasty steps back. This was a place no one spoke of, or even thought of, if Seto had his way. It was a place no one was allowed near, no matter what. Not even Mokuba had ever seen what was beyond this point. This was the one place in the entire estate that only Seto was allowed in. At night, the entire underground wing was to be empty regardless of anything that it might conflict with. These were Seto's orders, and Seto's orders were Law.

He shouldn't have come down there, Mokuba scolded himself silently. He shouldn't be breaking Seto's Law. Didn't he have homework to finish before going to sleep? And hadn't Wakabe-san asked him to call when he got home?

But those thoughts quickly faded from his mind as he heard the echoing cry of thirst once more. Now that he was so close to it it rumbled through his body in a way not all that dissimilar to standing in from of a speaker at an American metal concert. It was a feeling he rather enjoyed when it was appropriate, but when it was coming from an underground and _most_ untouchable door Mokuba was pretty sure lacked anything resembling technology, it just didn't fell quite as nice.

Reluctantly, and almost hypnotically, Mokuba watched his hand reach for the doorknob. He knew it'd be locked. Seto had such ferocity when it came to the Door that Mokuba could hardly expect little else.

However, the door swung open easily without even the slightest creak.

So much for that little hope.

Ignoring the frantic waves of instinct his subconscious was chucking at him, Mokuba walked through the doorway.

And screamed.

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A.N.: I think the second half of this chapter felt a bit rushed, and damn do I hate that feeling! –Begins beating her head against her computer desk- Damn, damn, damn. (Thud! Thud! Thud!)

Anthrop: -rolls eyes- while she's rendering herself unconscious, we'll say what she wanted to.

Anti: WHILE SHE _IS_ TRYING TO WORK ON CHP. FOUR OF LOST LIGHT, IT'S COMING ALONG VERY SLOWLY. IT PROBABLY WON'T BE UP FOR ANOTHER MONTH, AT LEAST. SHE'S ALSO TRYING TO MAKE IT LEGIBLE, SO IT MAY TAKE EVEN LONGER.

Analyze: _There will probably be only four or five more chapters after this. A.N.'s rather desperate to make a small multi-chaptered fanfiction, but just won't happen for her. –Rabbity smirk-_

Anthrop: if you're reading this, it means you've already read this chapter. that just leaves the reviewing/flaming part left. go ahead and flame. I doubt a.n. will be upset.

Anti: SHE ACTUALLY WANTS A FLAME. ALL THIS PRAISE IS CONFUSING (AND SCARING) THE HECK OUT OF HER. SHE CRAVES CRITICISM, PEOPLE! –ADORABLE CHIBI FACE- PLEASE, SATE OUR A.N.-CHAN!

A.N.: I just realized this chapter ended with someone screaming. Damn it! I'm repeating myself!

The Voices: -Sigh-


	3. His Ototo

(Author's Rant at end of chapter.)

Blue Eyes Chapter Three

He was five, staring down into the face of his newborn ototo in a mixture of surprise, love, and awe. He somehow knew, instinctively, if not fully, that he would one day be the only one who would be able to care for that raven-haired child. He would be that child's protector.

He was six, playing his first Duel Monsters game. It had taken him a month to collect his deck, and now he was ready. His opponent looked at him arrogantly, thinking she had this in the bag. His opponent had to be twice his age, and with nearly three times the experience, there was no point in even trying against him, some newbie brat. And then he launched his attack, and gave his opponent such a trouncing in one move he destroyed all 1500 of her life points. He bowed to his applauding family before smirking triumphantly at his defeated opponent, who looked to stunned to do anything but stare.

He was seven, sitting in the den at the piano, his fingers dancing along the keys as if he'd been playing for twenty years. Moki watched from the floor amid his pots and pans, beating along perfectly to the beat strummed out from his niisan's magic fingers. Their mother listened from the kitchen, smiling knowingly to herself, not minding the sounds at all. Her boys were prodigies, both of them, and nothing was going to stop them from doing what they did best.

He was eight, coming home from school on a drizzly winter afternoon, chill and icy. He'd forgotten his umbrella, but he didn't mind. He loved the feel of rain, no matter the time of year. It always made him smile. He caught sight of something in the gutter, and he went closer to find out what the something was. The something became three separate somethings, huddling together for warmth. Puppies? No, puppies had fur. These things had scales, shimmering white scales like medieval armor. Were they lizards then? He saw the wings. No, not lizards. _Dragons_. Three pairs of empty blue eyes stared into his own blue eyes, and he knew he had to save them. He felt the same protection for them as he did for Moki.

He was nine, out in the backyard with his dragons. His mother and father were out having their anniversary while Mokuba was over at a friend's house. He had stayed home under the guise of studying for a big test tomorrow and was now playing with his friends. He ran towards the small house, only to trip over the small concrete step and scrape his knees. He sat up, flinching as he tried to inspect the damage. Suddenly his dragons, who hadn't changed at all since he had found them a year ago, glided towards him, excitedly crooning as they landed at his feet. They began licking his knees ecstatically, and he felt the harmless scrapes heal, leaving the skin red and a little raw. The dragons looked up at him pathetically, and then it dawned on him. The dragons survived on human blood.

He was eleven; the past years a weary blur. He could hardly remember anything but the dragons anymore, and they filled his life with eager pain. His smiles were becoming much harder to muster anymore, and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep them up. Moki had been asking for ages what was wrong with his niisan, and his parents had started to notice his strange habits as well. What _was_ wrong with him? Even he wasn't sure anymore. The scars were spreading along his small body now faster than ever. What was he going to do?

He was twelve, now an orphan staring at his parents' graves. Moki was at his side, crying silently. His own face was dry, his eyes empty and cold. What was there to cry about? What had their parents ever done for them but let them get hurt? They had only punished and questioned, and then they died, leaving them unguarded, weak, defenseless. He would now have to take everything the world had to throw at them and then some, just to keep his ototo safe.

He was fourteen, no longer the smiling child. He was a void encrusted with bloody scars, and all that was inside him anymore were the dragons eating away at him, growing in size and malice with every passing session. He'd forgotten who he was as a child, and knew only that he must never get close to anyone, including his brother, his last living relative and friend. His stepfather's training along with the near monthly session with his dragons was wearing him thin, but he had to keep going, to protect Mokuba. He couldn't show him affection, but he could protect his ototo.

He was sixteen, staring into the determined violet eyes of Yuugi for the first time. He feared this tiny man with the tri-colored hair. He wasn't normal. It was as if there were two parts to him, and together they could destroy everything he knew as normal. This was the one person who could destroy everything; the dragons whispered urgently, you mustn't let him win! Nevertheless, he did, almost like he had wanted to lose against Yuugi from the beginning, and the dragons understood this too. A part of himself was trying to escape captivity, and of course, that never happened, and the sessions increased in intensity a hundred-fold.

He was twenty, losing his mind and starting not to care. Life was nothing but torture now, and the only reason he hadn't killed himself was Mokuba. Mokuba still needed him, still needed his protection. His will to live remained solely within his ototo, and he would not forsake him as their parents had done. His dragons were now gargantuan, far larger than their digital counterparts, and endlessly starving for his blood. Every session brought him one more day closer to death, closer to finding the end of his path, and what would he leave behind for his ototo? A tarnished game corporation and a tarnished name. But that hardly mattered, if he could leave his ototo with a clear chance at life.

He was twenty-one, falling through life, the ground coming towards him rapidly. It was all going to end soon; he could feel it in his soul, and there wasn't anything he could do. He didn't mind any longer. The world would be a better place without someone like him, especially Mokuba. He didn't blame the dragons anymore; he could see the pity and regret in their eyes. The eldest had once explained to him as he lay healing beneath its gently pulsing wings that they had no choice in the matter of taking him. A higher power controlled them, all three of them, and he had been chosen to become theirs. They only treated him so harshly to make up for their lost companion, the one he had destroyed after defeating Sugoroku Mouto, and that soon it would all be over. Yes, soon it would all end.

It was October 31, he was twenty-two, and he was dying.

A.N.: Alright now, what the fuck is with you people? You practically beg me to continue this thing and when I do, there's no response! I personally thought chapter two was much better than chapter one, even if there were still some bugs in it, and I get only three reviews! (Now to you three who _did_ review, I thank you a thousand times over.)

Anthrop: it isn't nice to curse out the audience, a.n. they may just decide to just stop reading in the first place.

A.N.: -frustrated huff- Yeah, I know, but I just don't understand why no one's saying anything. I'm not even asking for much; hell, I'd be happy for a "U SUK! Y TEH FUCK R U HRTN SETO U BITCH! WUT DID U DO 2 MOKUBA! Y IS EVRY1 ALWAYS SCRMN N YR STRIES N-E-WAY!"

Anti: WHAT DID YOU JUST WRITE?

A.N.: Not sure. But seriously, folks, I'm just wondering if anyone's reading this steaming pile I'm spewing out of my brainmeats. And, well, even if you're not, screw you. I'm finishing this thing for my own sanity.

Finem: Y o u a r e a w f u l l y r u d e t o d a y , A . N .

A.N.: Well I'm tired, okay? Marching band sucks. A lot. I may just end up writing a fic about that. Now, please people, give me a response. I'm really looking for criticism, mostly, but Hell; praise my shit if you must.

Anthrop: oh, and "ototo" means "little brother" in japanese.

A.N.: And remember, this thing's starting to wind down.


	4. Exist

Mokuba stared into the void with a mixture of awe and horror, small gasping sounds escaping his throat. Of all the things he had been expecting, finding this . . . place hadn't been one of them.

The darkness stretched on and on and on with no sign of quitting, just darkness and glittering white pinpoints of light like faraway stars. No warmth, no mercy, only the black rush of silence. Mokuba shuddered and fell backwards, more than aware of how close he'd come to tumbling downward through the doorway.

A thunderous grumble echoed up from deep inside the shadows, shaking the air itself with its warning tones. Mokuba trembled, pressing his body deeper into the carpet, trying to force the ground to swallow him up as the shockwaves pounded his painfully inadequate body. His mind just recognized it as the sound that had brought him down here to the Door, while his body recognized it as supreme danger and was begging his mind to _get the hell out of there!_ But Mokuba barely felt his body's twitching as he found himself leaning closer to the doorframe.

"S-Seto?" he called out in a choked whisper. He wasn't sure if his brother was there at all, but one never knew for sure, especially when dealing with hidden vortexes in one's basement.

A soft, barely audible groan floated up from the void, frightening Mokuba more than anything else had thus far but strengthening his resolve all the same. "Niisan?" he shouted, an almost hysterical edge to his voice as he forced himself to sit up.

_"DAMARU,"_ rumbled a sonorous earthquake of a voice directly in front of Mokuba's face. _"You might wake him."_

The boy couldn't help it. He squeaked.

A pale, ethereal blue light filled the space between voice and human, revealing the astonishing, deadly face of a Blue Eyes White Dragon.

This time Mokuba managed to utter a proper scream, scrambling back as he did so.

_"Urusai!"_ The dragon ordered, and Mokuba obediently shut his mouth. Would you argue with a Blue Eyes?

The dragon nodded curtly and said nothing more, content with watching (with more than a little amusement in its pale eyes) Mokuba try and recover. This was proving unsurprisingly difficult, and it took quite a long time before he could look at the head staring back at him without wanting to run like a silly child.

It's head, which had to be very nearly ten times the size of its holographic counterpart, was narrow and shapely, with minute pebble scales scintillating across its snout from a light Mokuba couldn't see. Its eyes were wide and almond shaped, very much like a cat's, and massive ivory horns jutted out across its forehead varying in length from a few feet to perhaps eighty yards (80 x 3 240 feet 2,280 inches. Just thought I'd give you a proper perspective of how big this sucker is. :P), looking a bit like long white hair. Its mouth was parted slightly, showing two rows of meter-long teeth running around a forked tongue nearly ten feet in length leading back into a throat wide enough to swallow a small house. Mokuba gulped uneasily and quickly returned his gaze up to the creature's eyes.

"Ano, shitsurei?" he murmured reverently, overawed by the majesty of the dragon's face.

_"Yes?"_ it replied smugly without moving its mouth.

"H-have—" Mokuba paused and tried again. "Where is Seto?"

_"Of course. He is down here with us waiting for it to finish."_

"Us?" Mokuba's pulse quickened again.

_"Nani? Did you really think I was the only one down here?"_

"I was hoping you were," Mokuba said apprehensively. The dragon chuckled, cat eyes sparkling with laughter.

_"Come along, little one. He's been asking for you."_

And without knowing just how he'd gotten there, Mokuba found himself inside the massive jaws of the Blue Eyes, hanging onto the nearest serrated tooth for dear life. Seconds later he toppled out, slightly wetter than he would have like but he thought he preferred being covered in dragon saliva to dragon stomach acids.

He climbed to his feet, surprised that there was really a bottom to the void, and looked up.

And up.

And up.

And up.

Three Blue Eyes White Dragons loomed over him, each one differing from the other two but all a gloriously stunning white that seemed to hum with power in the darkness. The one that had nearly eaten him who had seemed so large before now looked small and meek compared to the other two.

The largest of the three lowered its great head until it was eye level with Mokuba. Its face was broad and littered with horns and jagged scales, almost forming an old man's beard. One of its eyes was milky, almost as white as the dragon's scales, and a dark scar marred the surrounding flesh.

_"So you Seto's younger brother, the one he speaks so often of in his sleep, eh?"_ It asked bemusedly with a voice that rattled the ground for miles around as it looked at him with its one good eye. _"Rather tiny, aren't you now?"_ It cackled out a barrage of bass laughter that threw poor Mokuba to the ground . . . again.

"H-hai!" Mokuba replied shrilly, shaking all over.

_"Good,"_ it said, sobering instantly, _"He's over there."_ The dragon's eye roved to focus on something behind Mokuba, who turned around slowly, none to keen to leave that seemingly mile-wide mouth out of his sights, but all thoughts concerning his own safety vanished in the instant his eyes connected with Seto's'.

"Niisan!" he very nearly screamed, rushing to his brother's side.

Seto looked (and happened to be) very, very, damaged as he sat huddled and shivering, wrapped in a blood-caked blanket that did little more than make him an even more pitiful shadow of himself. He sat in circle of strange smelling candles and bowls of incense, the smoke curling around his frame like gentle arms wishing to pull him along in their upward ascent into the void. The red, swollen scars of so many years of willing yet unwilling servitude stood starkly against Seto's bone white skin, and his whole being seemed so worn and used and ready to be discarded, but Seto's face was so strange! There was such a look of peace upon his smiling features that for a moment Mokuba was sure this person wasn't his brother, but the eyes were so blue and narrow that all doubt evaporated instantaneously. Those two pinpricks of blue light bore through Mokuba like sapphire daggers, drilling into him with the wisdom of someone unimportant and useless being filled with all the knowledge in the world.

"Mokuba, I'm going to die," Seto said quietly, speaking the matter as a statement of fact. Mokuba's eyes filled with tears and he looked away, forgetting everything around him. Seto's face clouded with worry, and he lifted a steady yet gentle hand to his younger brother's face, turning it towards himself. "It's not like that, Moki—"

"Then what is it like, Seto?" Mokuba yelled angrily, smacking his brother's hand away. "I've been wondering what the fuck was wrong with you since I was four, and _this_ is what I find? You're sacrificing yourself to a bunch of fucking_ mythical_ creatures! You always said you didn't believe in magic and I always tried to believe you, or was that all a dumb act to throw us all off the scent of your _blood_?" For the air was rife with a strong coppery, metallic scent, filling Mokuba's lungs, burning his eyes, soaking into his hair, his clothes, his skin. He could feel the anger welling up inside him, and he stood abruptly, facing the three Blue Eyes.

"And what about you, huh? I always thought the Blue Eyes White Dragon was one of the _good_ monsters, the way Niisan was so protective of his cards, they way he designed so much of our theme park around you, how he built a fucking _plane_ to look like you! But you're not, none of you. You're horrible, you're EATING him for god's sake!"  
"Mokuba!" So much of the hard, bitter Seto returned to that voice that Mokuba froze and shivered, turning shamefully to look at his brother through his long bangs.

"There's no point in yelling, Mokuba," Seto whispered gloomily, "It's too late." His lips parted into a hopeful and wonderful smile. "Will you sit with me?" Mokuba looked at him in surprise, and watched time and reality fall away until he seemed only a child again, and Seto years away from being CEO of Kaiba Corp.

He sat beside him, a warm and innocent smile playing across his young features like the afternoon sunlight dancing and reflecting across the waters of the small pond before them. They were sitting on a small knoll in a large public garden, watching the koi fish play in the pond. They had returned to a memory from just a few short days before their parents' tragic deaths. It was early spring, and signs of the previous hard winter still showed in the bare trees, in the ice ringing the pond. A mother cat and her three kittens lamented helplessly over the fourth, which had fallen into the water and drowned. Everything was bittersweet, reminding them that all good things must come to an end.

"You've already had them for a while now, huh?" Mokuba asked vaguely. Seto nodded, showed his brother a bare wrist wrapped in bloody bandages.

"Will you be all right?" Seto asked, lowering his sleeve, hugging his knees close to his chest.

"I think so. I'll have to stop seeing my girlfriend, but I've never liked her all that much anyway, and I might as well drop school after this year—"

"You don't have to do all that."

"But the company!"

"Kaiba Corp. isn't worth throwing away a chance at a normal life. I threw mine away, and look what happened to me!" He chuckled roguishly, but Mokuba did nothing, and after a few seconds Seto sobered himself politely.

"Do you regret doing it?" Mokuba asked. Seto opened his mouth hastily. "Don't lie to me." He closed it, and a forlorn look came into his intense blue eyes that seemed to be gazing into something Mokuba couldn't see, like the light that made the Blue Eyes' scales shine.

"Yes and no,' he said. "Yes, because I purposely ruined our relationship by not telling you what I was doing, and doing it all the wrong way. There was an easier way, but I chose this instead. And I made it seem like I hated everything, including you. I want you to know right now that I don't hate anything very much at all. I've just been too preoccupied to get a proper look at the world." Mokuba leaned against his brother, imitating him by likewise hugging his knees.

"And no?" he pried gently.

"I want to know what it's like. I want to be free. But mostly, I want to exist." He eyes seemed to glow with excitement, and Mokuba did not ask him what he meant.

"Do you know what's going to happen?"

"Yes." Seto tilted his head against his ototo's, smiling fondly. "It's going to be wonderful."

"I'm going to miss you."

"Don't. I'm not going away forever."

"I can't see you very well anymore," Mokuba commented lightly. "You're disappearing."

"But not leaving. Not really. I'll always be here."

They were quiet for a time, watching the red sun set over the budding sakura trees, turning the pond to liquid gold, making the cats' eyes seem to gleam with tears.

Mokuba turned to his brother, who was almost nothing but a blue-eyed white shadow now. They were their proper ages now, but still sitting in a bittersweet memory, saying a bittersweet goodbye.

"I love you, Seto," he said, taking his brother's hand into his.

"I have always loved you, Mokuba." There were tears in Seto's fantastic eyes, and Mokuba realized that this was the first time he had ever seen his brother cry.

And then they were kissing, their hands clenched into one, their foreheads melding together as the pressure increased, their lips so tightly pressed the skin was bruising and breaking, but the pain didn't matter. Salty liquid spilled down both their cheeks as Seto floated away, leaving a lasting and beautiful imprint upon Mokuba, whose gray eyes were wide with visions of what his brother had become, what his brother had helped to revive. He needed to follow him forever, and he did so joyously.

He caught a glimpse of Heaven as he soared past it at 186,000 thousand miles per second. He was flying on his niisan's brilliant white wings, flying out to the stars, into them, into a world of agelessness and light and wild and perfect euphoria. His four companions followed after, roaring with triumph and delicate sorrow. Mokuba wanted to cry, to laugh, to scream with terror and then with rage. He wanted it to stop, but he hoped it never would. He had become one with the soul of the universe; he had been separated into every particle of all living things. He was filled with all; he was an aperture with nothing inside. He knew everything, yet at the same time knew nothing. He saw and he was blind. He heard and he was deaf. He spoke and he was mute. He tasted much and tasted little. He was moving and he was still. He encompassed the universe, outshone it, yet he was only a tiny half-fragment of dust floating about in its swirling oneness, barely shedding a single spark of light. He found one thought in himself among the burning and freezing unity and disarray as he rode through history and future and all things in-between atop his brother's beating wings.

He existed.

LKSJFOSFJLKHFLSKDHFLSKFHSLDKHGLSDKGHL;SKGHL;DASKGHAL;DKSHDSKOFWHKDS

A.N.: There's only an epilogue left. This chapter is so very different from the original, and I like it so much more. Review please! Oh, and by the way, buy a copy of Soul Disclosure in March, okay? It's a book of various people's poetry/stories, and WE'RE going to be in it! –dance-


	5. Epilogue In Blue

Epilogue in Blue

He opened his eyes, became aware of himself. His heart beat hollowly in his chest, his thoughts were dull and sluggish, his body felt heavy and nauseating. He wanted to escape again to Seto. He wanted to be free. To exist.

"You're awake. Good, we were starting to get a little worried." Yugi smiled from near the large, many-paned window letting in a cloudy sunlight. It was apparent he had been communicating with his ka, his second soul.

"Hey, Yugi-san," he said carefully, struggling to sit up. It almost felt like he was trying to move around at the bottom of the ocean.

"You've been asleep for almost two days. We found you on the roof. Your staff wanted to take you to the hospital but we convinced them to just leave you in bed."

"Arigato, Yugi-san. The roof, huh?" He grunted and rubbed his eyes, which burned and itched, and cringed as a dull migraine started in his temples. "That's funny. I don't remember going up there at all."

"You don't sound surprised."

"That's because I'm not."

"Why were you up there?"

Mokuba smiled craftily and unhurriedly stood, stretching sore limbs. "You mean down there, and I don't have a clue."

"We don't know what you mean." Yugi looked slightly worried.

"S'alright. I knew you wouldn't."

Yugi sat down on the bed and watched Mokuba silently, a concerned and sad expression in his violet-red eyes. "Mokuba-kun," he said after a moment, "We have some bad news." Mokuba turned, not looking surprised.

"What?"

"Seto-san—Seto-san is dead Mokuba. He killed himself. We found the note yesterday."

Mokuba shook his head. "Niisan isn't dead. He just . . . went away for a little while."

"Mokuba-kun . . " Yugi started sadly, thinking the youth was denying the truth. Mokuba raised his hand to stop him.

"I was there when he left, Yugi-san. He_ isn't_ dead."

"Then how—"

Mokuba smiled evasively, a hand trailing to the card-shaped pendant hanging from his neck. "Trust me."

Yugi seemed to want to question Mokuba some more, but stopped as his ka whispered to him. A look of half-understanding came to him, and he cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Mokuba-kun, do you feel okay?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. I feel fine. Doshite?" He raked his hands through his wild and dark hair and pulled out a shirt from his dresser, going through the motions like it was any other day.

"Your eyes aren't gray anymore."

"Oh?"

"They're blue. Bright blue."

"How strange . . ." He touched the thin skin around his eyes, a knowing smile playing his lips cleverly.

"You know. What did you see?" Yugi stood up, waiting for his answer.

"Perfection."

"Nani?" Yugi wondered what had happened to Mokuba to make him so unusual and wise, but didn't pry. Perhaps the boy would tell him eventually, whenever he thought it right. His ka was disappointed, to be sure, but understood, and reminded Yugi of what he needed to do.

"Mokuba-kun?"

"Hai?"

"This was also with your Oniisan's—ano, note." He handed a Mokuba a white envelope with the boy's name written on it in Seto's exacting handwriting.

Raising an eyebrow and at last vaguely surprised, Mokuba tore it open, and out fell five Duel Monsters cards, along with a small slip of paper. The cards were each a Blue Eyes White Dragon; each picture was different, unique from the others. One was clearly feminine with horns like hair. Another was old, with a scar over one blind eye. The third appeared to have no proper gender, while the fourth was small and weak, but still imposing and dangerous. But they were all surpassed in radiance by the fifth, which looked vibrant, new, as if nothing could ever stop it. It's eyes glowed wonderfully against its white scales, with an arrogant, almost familiar air to it.

"Five?" breathed Yugi in amazement, hands trembling. "_Five_?"

Mokuba reached for the slip of paper, smiling at Yugi's bewilderment, and read the words with his electric blue eyes glazed with memory.

_-Take care of these while I'm gone. Remember, I'm here, I'll be watching, and I love you. Never forget._

_-Seto_

Mokuba smiled, heedless of the sudden rush of tears to his eyes. "I won't," he whispered joyfully, "I won't."

LDFHSDLFHLSDKHFLSDKHGL;SDGHL;AKHL;KSAHDALK;GHOWEHLKHFLDSHLKHALFDOH

A.N.: It's over. I hope I didn't fuck the characters up too much. Obviously, Mokuba isn't dead, and please, no yelly at A.N. for changing Mokuba's eyes! I was making a point. –huff- And, if you were wondering, the 186,0000 thousand miles per second thing in the previous chapter is the speed of light.

Thank you, all of my lovely little viewers, for yelling at me to continue, and praising everything I thought sucked. I finished something! YAAAAAY!


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